


Until The Last Falling Star

by agentsofthemcu (TheFallenArchangel)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Multi, Old-Fashioned Steve Rogers, Polyamory, Pre-Canon, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:17:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2876366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFallenArchangel/pseuds/agentsofthemcu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In all honesty, Steve probably should've realized that the whole 'soulmate' thing was a lot more complicated than it ever seemed, even in a normal setting. To be fair though, he never thought he'd actually have to worry about it. Before he was frozen, he'd been unmarked. When he woke up from the ice, he had two marks."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. America

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Soulmate Shorts AKA The Crackship Armada](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658407) by [ozhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk). 



> ^ Highly recommended. 
> 
> Anyway, I fell in love with the pairing Steve/Skye/Bucky, and this kind of happened.

_I see the faces on TV trying to relate to me. Sometimes I just have to close my eyes. I know I am not alone, trying to find my way back home. Living in America … We grow up together here, share our hopes and darkest fears. Come together right now over me. New York was a battle ground, silence was the only sound. Living in America._

_~Ryan Star, "America"_

* * *

In all honesty, Steve probably should've realized that the whole ‘soulmate’ thing was a lot more complicated than it ever seemed, even in a normal setting. To be fair though, he never thought he’d actually have to worry about it.

Before he was frozen, he’d been unmarked. There was no tattoo of first words in his soulmate’s handwriting anywhere on his skin, and by the time he’d turned twenty, he’d given up hope that they ever would appear. It wasn't particularly uncommon to be unmarked, to be so put one in a very slight minority. Bucky had been unmarked as well, and seemed to find a freedom in it that Steve could never quite understand, a freedom that let him flirt with every woman he saw.

Taking comfort in the fact that his best friend was as he was, he put the disappointment behind him and focused his efforts on enlisting, on doing what he could for his country.

When he woke up from the ice, he had two marks.

The first one he noticed was across the instep of his foot. He supposed that the shock of waking up seventy years after his last memory should have rendered him numb to surprise, but when he made to take his boot off for the first time, he was pretty sure his heart stopped in his chest for the second time in as many days.

 _“Who the hell’s Bucky?”_ the words asked in an angry, very near illegible scrawl, and he felt his chest tighten at the memory of his friend’s death, so fresh in his mind despite the apparent years. That’s when the full impact of everything hit at once. All his friends, everyone he’d ever known, ever cared about… they were probably dead.

He sat there for a very long time.

After that, he locked himself in the gym the first chance he got, and spent hours upon hours pouring every bit of anger and frustration and, yeah, fear into the punching bags that kept going flying off their hooks and fell apart under his hands. By the time he was finished, his hair was plastered to his head and his clothes stuck to his body like a second skin, both soaked in sweat. There wasn't a single punching bag left undamaged. Trembling from a mix of physical exertion and mental exhaustion, he returned to the temporary quarters they’d given him, wanting only to shower. That’s when he saw the second mark in the mirror.

_“I could've handled that myself.”_

He read the words aloud quietly and ran a slightly shaky hand over the bottom of his ribs on his right side, ghosting his fingers atop the slanted print. His eyes dropped from the mirror to his skin as he looked between the two marks, heart hammering again for a very different reason.

The fact that he had a second soulmate wasn't too strange, at least not as strange as some of the things he’d seen and heard of the world so far. To his knowledge, it wasn’t exceedingly rare, or at least it hadn't been in the 40s, but in most cases, one of the bonds was meant to be platonic, signified by lighter silver or blue lettering of the ~~ir~~ words. Neither of his appeared to be though, their dark, blue-grey color signifying them as romantic bonds that could only get darker if the speaker of the words were to die.

Too agitated and distracted to think on it any further, he pushed the matter to the back of his mind and took his shower.

It was a long time before he really had a chance to dwell on the topic again. Between the extreme culture shock, the nightmares of Bucky’s death and his own near demise, and coming vaguely up to date with the times, he didn't do much thinking about anything other than catching up. He focused on what he’d missed as best he could, but it was like being caught in a whirlwind that kept knocking the wind out of him. He wasn't even sure how long it was - 2 weeks? 3? A month? - before he sat down on the sofa in the DC apartment they’d given him and could actually _breathe._

For the first time since the night he discovered his second mark, he truly let himself look at them. The writing on his foot seemed vaguely familiar, like it was only a little bit different from something he should be able to recognize but couldn’t. It looked, he finally decided, like a man’s handwriting.

The second set of writing was completely alien to him. He couldn't decide gender either, it seemed a bit of a draw. The way the words were scrawled suggested they belong to a man, but at the same time, the slight curve to each letter gave it a distinctly feminine look.

He let himself wonder what they would look like, what their voices would sound like, how the three of them would fit together. For the first time, he allowed himself be a bit excited at the idea.

He didn’t meet either of them for almost a year and a half.

Six months after the Battle of New York, he was sent to LA to collaborate with Stark. They were running on barely more than a whisper, rumors of Extremis being used in further studies by some sort of shadow organization supposedly working in the area. It was all guesswork and nobody was actually sure of anything, but the risk of Extremis being weaponized was enough to warrant the search.

 He’d been there for almost a week when he had the nightmare. They didn't come as often as they did in the beginning, but when they did, it was enough to keep him from sleeping for at least the rest of the night. His go-to relief was always the gym, where he could tear things apart and let go like he did that one night in the beginning. There was no gym there though, so when he jolted from sleep with his heart racing and his ears ringing, he found himself walking down a nearly empty street at almost midnight.

Other than a few people hanging around outside a bar, he hadn't seen anyone really, so it did draw his attention when he saw a girl step out of a laundromat and onto the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Bag thrown over her shoulder, she walked quickly, head down, and though it was dark, he in no way missed the wary look she gave him before continuing on her way. He could understand her trepidation, and dropped his pace a bit.

It was because of the new space between them that he even saw when a man stepped out of an alley. The glint of metal drew Steve’s eyes to the man’s hand, and his pace faltered when he saw the knife clutched in his fist.

The guy was walking just fast enough to catch up to the girl as she rounded the corner into an alley, and Steve couldn’t help but pick his pace up to a run as he heard the sound of something hitting metal. When he reached the alleyway, he skidded to a stop just long enough to take in the sight of the man attempting to break the window of a van as blood dripped from his nose. He lunged forward, yanking the guy away from the vehicle hard enough for his body to hit the opposite wall.

Regaining his footing, the man redirected his attack, brandishing the knife and throwing slashes toward Steve’s face that he dodged all too easily. In retaliation, the super-soldier threw a punch that had the attacker crumpling to the floor, blood pooling behind his lips before spilling over and coating his chin.

Shaking his hand absently, he turned to look for the girl, and found that while she’d taken shelter within the van during the initial attack, she’d emerged sometime during the brief fight with a metal baseball hat in hand, looking more than willing to use it.

In glancing her over to assure she wasn't hurt, he couldn't help but notice two things. One, she was beautiful. With the exotic slant of her dark eyes giving the impression of mixed race, she was exactly the kind of dame Bucky would've been all over, and he himself probably would've even considered his chances with once upon a time. And two, her expression betrayed no fear. There _was_ wariness there, and a determination, but despite the unconscious man on the floor and the guy who’d put him there with a single blow standing before her, she didn't seem at all afraid.

“I could've handled that myself.” She told him.

* * *

          


	2. Start of Something Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets to know one of his soulmates.

_You never know when you're gonna meet someone and your whole wide world in a moment comes undone. You're just walking around and suddenly everything that you thought that you knew about love is gone. You find out it's all been wrong … I know that it’s gonna take some time. I've got to admit that the thought has crossed my mind that this might end up like it should. And I'm gonna say what I need to say and hope to god that it don't scare you away. I don't want to be misunderstood, but I'm starting to believe that this could be the start of something good._

_~ Daughtry, “Start of Something Good”_

* * *

_“I could've handled that myself.” She told him._

All of a sudden, anything he could've hoped to say to simply vanished from his mind and he stood there just staring at her for the longest time, mouth slightly ajar. If she was at all off-put by his lack of response, the only indication of it was the slight furrowing of her eyebrows as she stepped forward, closer to him. He felt intensely vulnerable under her gaze, and before he could come up with an intelligent response, she spoke again.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me…” she said with a breathy little laugh that practically dripped disbelief, and he knew what was coming before she continued. “ _Steve Rogers?”_  There was a touch of awe in her voice beneath the obvious shock, but it wasn't as intense as it had been in some people he’d met. He couldn't help but think of Phil Coulson, almost wincing before he regained his composure, trying again to focus on his reply before letting his habitual manners take over.

“I was just trying to help, ma’am.”

He heard the hitch of her breath and saw the way her mouth fell open and her eyes widened in shock, and couldn't help but think he probably looked the same. Forcing his mouth shut, he took a step toward her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, glancing her over again, though he still didn't see any injuries.

 She visibly swallowed and nodded mutely before turning around and throwing the bat into the passenger seat of the open van before slamming the door shut. She turned back to him, and the wariness was definitely still in her eyes, though it seemed dulled by shock and a bit of curiosity.

“So you’re… actually... y’know... _him?_ ” She asked, like she needed actual verbal confirmation of his identity, and he couldn't help but chuckle a bit. At his brief laugh, she smiled the slightest bit in return, and he felt like it was a small sort of victory.

“Yes. It’s good to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for her to supply her name, holding his hand out. After a second hesitation, she slid her small hand into his larger one.

“Skye.” She finally answered. Slowly, and holding her hand gently so she could pull away if she wanted to,  he raised her hand and lowered his head to brush his lips over her knuckles. She seemed surprised by the motion, but didn't pull away, which he took as a sort of encouragement.  

“Well Skye,“ he started, letting go of her hand, “There’s a diner down the street. Why don’t you let me buy you coffee and we can talk.”  

 “Sure. I’d like to learn a thing or two about my soulmate.”  She replied after what seemed like a moment of consideration. He couldn't help but smile as it actually seemed to sink in that he had just met one of his soulmates.

The walk was short, and it was almost funny the way they both kept sneaking looks at each other, as if looking again and again would reveal something they hadn't seen before. He held the door open for her as they stepped in, and she seemed almost a bit surprised by the action, but beamed at him as she stepped past him. They settled in a booth near the back of the diner, sitting across from each other.

He was a bit surprised when the waitress addressed Skye by name and asked if she wanted ‘the usual,’ but at the same time, it was kind of nice. It reminded him a bit of the life he’d had before waking up in the twenty-first century, when people bothered to actually learn each other’s name, something he sorely missed. He thanked the lady politely after he ordered himself coffee and Skye ordered hot chocolate instead.

“So… I have to ask…” She started almost as soon as the waitress left, sounding a bit nervous, “Do you have a second mark?” For the first time, he noticed the way she was fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket. He hadn't even considered that she might not have a second mark, and until she asked him, he realized he probably should've thought about it. Clearly she had, and was worried about it. He rushed to put her mind at ease.

“Yeah, I do actually.” He thought of the words on his foot that asked who Bucky was. “I’m assuming you do as well?”

She nodded, and slid the jacket off. With the short sleeved shirt beneath it, the words written across her forearm were incredibly obvious.  ‘You shouldn't be here’ they said in the same scrawled handwriting he’d seen on his own skin. Almost without choosing to do so, he shifted his foot a bit.

“What are his words on you?” She asked curiously. Apparently, she’d come to the same conclusion he had, that the handwriting belonged to a man. “Sorry!” She said quickly, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” It took him a second before he realized he’d hesitated long enough for it to be perceived as unwillingness to answer.

“No, it’s fine.” He assured her hurriedly. “His words ask who Bucky is.” He explained, not really wanting to use the expletive in public. “Just... erm... not that politely.”

“Sounds like a real charmer.” Skye chuckled in response, before shaking her head. “How could he _not_ know who Bucky is?” She asked, sounding incredulous, but when he looked at her with a raised eyebrow, she blushed some, suddenly fidgeting even more. It was adorable. “I just… uh… That old TV show… y’know... ‘Captain America and the Howling Commandos.’ All the kids in the orphanage loved it.” She explained, flushing more with every word.

“So you were a Captain America fan?” He asked teasingly, going with the lighter subject. He figured that asking about her time in an orphanage would be too much for their first meeting. He didn't want to push or make her uncomfortable, and apparently he was succeeding to some degree. He grinned at the way she giggled in response. He was actually really pleased that she knew at least who Bucky was. He himself refused to let his best friend’s name fade into oblivion.

“Actually? Not so much.” She admitted, “I was always a Bucky fan. He was always the adorable comic relief. You were always the hardass.” He chuckled softly and rolled his eyes, but his chest ached terribly at the thought of his best friend. For a moment, the image of Bucky falling off the train flickered behind his eyes. He was pulled back to the present by Skye’s hand closing on top of his, squeezing gently. “Hey… I’m sorry.” She said quietly. He flipped his hand under hers to press their palms together and smiled.

“It’s fine, really.”

She pulled her hand back when the waitress got back with their drinks, and beat him to thanking her, and he found himself missing the warmth of her hand ever so much.

How long they actually sat there, talking about anything and everything - well… _almost_ everything. Every time he tried to bring up what she did for a living she’d avoid the question like a pro - he wasn't entirely sure. He didn’t know where the time was going either. They’d gotten there at just after midnight, but in what seemed like a mere few minutes it was almost two in the morning according to the clock on the wall. Then it was three. After their drinks had been drained, they’d shared a piece of pie. (She’d teased him for that, ordering apple pie. “Really? I know you’re Captain America and all, but _apple pie?”)_

Reluctantly, and at almost four in the morning he decided it was probably about time he returned to his hotel room and got ready for the rest of the day. It was Skye’s yawn that really sealed it.

“I’ll walk you home.” He offered as they stepped out of the diner into the warm air. She accepted, though she laughed as if there was a joke he’d managed to miss out on, which was really nothing new.

He figured out why she’d laughed when they got back to the alleyway with the van and stopped. It actually took him a few seconds for him to realize that they’d stopped because this _was_ her home. The thought was confirmed when she leaned against the van, frowning at the damage done to it, before turning to smile at him.

“It’s by choice, if you’re wondering.” She told him, “the van.”  She patted the hood fondly. “’S not much, but its home.”

There was a part of Steve that wanted to object, to say that a van wasn't a home, and there was no way she could possibly be safe, but stopped himself. He was surprised though, to realize how protective he was already becoming over this girl. The thought of an attack like the one that’d brought him to her occurring when he wasn't there sent chills up his spine.

As it was, he knew that realistically, he had no right to suggest she change her life just because he thought she’d be safer not sleeping in a van, so instead, he smiled and took her hand, again kissing the top of her knuckles. He barely had time to let go of her wrist before she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

“See you later?” She asked, sounding hopeful, and it brought a grin to his face.

“Of course.”

Before leaving, he gave her his cell phone number, instructing her to call him if she needed anything. She smiled and thanked him before vanishing into the van with another yawn, stifled by her hand over her mouth.

As he started the walk back toward the hotel, he felt more lighthearted than he had since waking up in the fake recovery room almost a year and a half previous.

* * *

               

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently torn between CaptainWinterSkye and CaptainWinterQuake. Thoughts?


	3. You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Skye take a walk.

_“I's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose. And it's you and me and all of the people and I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you”_

_~Lifehouse, “You and Me”_   
  


The rest of the day passed, for Steve, in a sluggish way. How exactly Tony knew that he hadn’t spent the night in his hotel room was beyond him - and a little bit creepy if he was being honest - but if the millionaire made one more comment about him ‘spending a night on the town’ his head was going to explode. It was almost one in the afternoon before he finally caved and left. He wasn’t good at doing nothing, and there really wasn’t anything to do. Besides, all Tony was doing was babbling about things he didn’t quite understand and being a smartass.

Taking his motorcycle instead of walking, he found himself at the alley in just under ten minutes. He could help but smile when he saw Skye. Dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt, she was sitting crosslegged on the hood of her van, staring intently at the screen of the laptop that sat on her knees. She didn’t seem to see him, leaning against the brick a few feet away, and he watched as she stopped her vigorous typing and gave a victorious little laugh. It was then she saw him.

“Steve!” she said happily, closing the laptop and leaving it behind her as she jumped down from the van and walked over to him. He wouldn’t deny that he liked the fact that she said his name. People tended to call him ‘Captain’ more than his actual name (with the obvious exception of one Stark who never got over the nickname ‘Capcicle’), and a part of him missed just being Steve. “I thought you were in LA on SHIELD orders.” She commented, then smiled mischievously, “Don’t tell me Captain America the Great is playing hooky!” He rolled his eyes at that bit.

“No, there’s just not much for me to do right now, and I don’t like doing nothing. I thought we could do something while I have the free time, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, what’d you have in mind?” She asked, and he realized he really didn’t have any plan, he’d just wanted to see her.

“I don’t really know,” he admitted, “But maybe we could walk around for a bit?” She tilted her head a bit at him, before laughing softly and nodding.

“Yeah, that sound fun.” She decided, “Let me just lock everything up.” Whirling around, she went back to the vehicle, picking up the laptop and sliding open the back door. His intention wasn’t to snoop, but he couldn’t help but see the small bed pushed up against the far end of the interior, as well as at least two computer screens. He almost chuckled at the tacky shag carpet on the floor and the curtain as he realized that she truly had turned her vehicle into a home. 

Slamming the door shut, she turned back to him, and it was without a conscious thought that he held an arm out. He knew it was sort of an outdated custom, but there were some habits he’d acquired in his past life that had stuck. Clearly this was one of them. Skye didn’t seem to think twice about it either though, looping her arm through his.

He was well aware of the occasional weird looks they got, walking down the street arm in arm, but if Skye noticed, she didn’t care. She told him about the places she knew in the area, explaining that she’d only been in LA for about a month and hadn’t ventured too far from the alley that sheltered her van.

They didn’t walk for too long before she dropped her arm out of his. Just as he made to put his hand in his pocket, he was stopped by Skye twining her fingers into his. When he looked at her, he saw that her eyes were carefully trained on his, looking for any sign that it wasn’t okay. Wordlessly, he squeezed her hand. Perhaps it was nothing more than cliché, but to him it felt as if their hands were made to be joined together.

The next few minutes found them arriving at a small but beautiful park. With a gentle tug, she pulled him toward one of the benches beneath a massive shady tree. They sat close enough for their legs to touch, and placing an arm over her shoulders was, to Steve, the most natural thing in the world. They sat like that for what must’ve been an hour, Skye eventually moving to lean against his side, not speaking. It wasn’t necessary.

It was awhile, though far too soon in both of their opinions, before Steve’s phone rang. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the device, a bit alarmed when the caller ID read ‘Stark.’ He pressed ‘talk’ and put it to his ear.

“Tony?” He asked.

_“I think I’ve got something on this Extremis thing. Don’t ask how, just assume that yes, I am that good.”_

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be there in a few.” He snapped the phone closed and looked apologetically to Skye, who’d angled herself to face him when he’d lost his relaxed position. Rather than looking downcast or in any way disappointed, she seemed amused. He didn’t even get the apology out of his mouth before she cut him off.

“Go on, save the world. It’s not far, I can walk back on my own.”

“Are you sure? I can-” He tried, but she stopped him.

“I’m a big girl Steve,” she assured him, before kissing his cheek, “I’ll even be home before dark if that makes you feel better.”

“Alright.” He conceded. “Why don’t we grab breakfast tomorrow morning?”

“You know where to find me.”

* * *

 

As he went jogging back to his bike in the direction they’d come, Skye remained sitting on the bench for a few minutes more, it really was a nice day and she rarely spend too much time out of her van that wasn’t necessary or because she was checking her monitoring equipment. Soon enough, she did stand and started toward home.

She paused for a moment outside a display that cased the ‘Heroes of New York’ toys for kids. Glancing at the Captain America one, she wondered idly if she should get it and give it to him as a joke. She brushed the idea off though and moved out of the way as a man and his son came to look at the toys.

She’d barely gotten to the street corner before the top section of one of the nearby buildings exploded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *flashy SHIELD logo* So yeah, we're caught up on the Agents of SHIELD pilot, in case you missed that bit. 
> 
> Yay!


	4. Kiss Me Slowly

" _Well I don't know what this is gonna be, but with my eyes closed all I see is the skyline through the window, the moon above you and the streets below. Hold my breath as you're moving in, taste your lips and feel your skin. When the time comes, baby don't run, just kiss me slowly."_

_~ Parachute, "Kiss Me Slowly"_

* * *

 

Steve took his bike the longer way to Skye's van the next morning, pausing briefly to look at the damage done to the building that'd partially exploded the day before. Tony was absolutely certain that it was caused by a person subjected to unstable Extremis, and a gut feeling told Steve that he was probably right. Unfortunately, when he'd tried to investigate further, he was shut down by S.H.I.E.L.D. and was told quite firmly that the explosion was not at all related to the Extremis case and was being investigated by a team with higher clearance.

Standing in the early morning light, there wasn't much that he could actually make out other than general damage. Whatever had gone off certainly packed a punch, because windows on separate floors of the building were cracked and shattered as well from the force.

According to the news reports, there hadn't been any bodies found in the wreckage, but then again that didn't really mean much. If there was anything Tony had drilled into his brain, it was that S.H.I.E.L.D. kept a lot of information secret from the public. He'd tried to get the names of whatever agents were running an investigation, but had been denied access, and while Tony was trying to get into the system, he wasn't making much progress.

If he was honest, he was actually more interested in the man who'd leapt from the window with a girl in his arms and then ran off than the source of the explosion. Part of him wanted to look into it, but something told him that if he couldn't get information on the bombing, then there was absolutely no way he would get anything on whoever the guy was, because of _course_ S.H.I.E.L.D. would be after him.

When he got to Skye's alley (and that wasn't a weird way to reference it at _all)_ she was sitting on the hood of the van, much like she'd been the day before. Hair pulled up into a ponytail and typing furiously, she only looked up for a moment when he pulled his bike into the alleyway. As he stepped toward her, he in no way missed the way she pulled her knee up some, pointedly keeping her screen out of his line of view. His curiosity was naturally piqued though he felt a flicker of apprehension as he reminded himself that he still had no idea what Skye did for a living, and though he was one of her soulmates, she didn't seem keen on shedding any light on the subject.

She didn't say anything for a moment until she ceased typing suddenly, pulling both hands back from the computer and giving a satisfied sigh and a grin of something like triumph.

"What's that for?" He asked, sticking his hands in his pockets and watching her expression.

"What's what for?" As she dropped to the asphalt, she gave him a soft smile that, super soldier serum be damned, made his heart beat just a bit faster. He was pretty sure he'd never get used to that.

"That smile."

"I just finished something up." She explained, shrugging as she placed the laptop back in the van. Though he wasn't completely satisfied by the answer, he didn't want to push. Instead of pressing the matter, he reached for both her hands. "What?" She asked, threading her fingers through his and letting herself be pulled gently when he took a few steps backwards.

"I believe we have a breakfast date." He said, watching her face closely as she realized where he was guiding her. "I thought we might go somewhere a bit outside walking distance." He explained, "If that's alright with you, that is."

She seemed to consider it for a moment, looking the slightest bit anxious, before nodding her consent. More delighted than he'd ever actually admit, Steve beamed at her before dropping one of her hands.

"Just one thing though…" Turning and reaching with his free hand, he unfastened a clip that held down an open face helmet to the back of the seat of the bike. When Skye saw it, she looked almost like she wanted to argue but thought better of it. Carefully, he set the helmet over her head, straightening it a bit. Once he was done, she looked down quickly. "What's wrong?" He asked, concerned that maybe he'd done something wrong.

"I feel like I look ridiculous." She admitted, raising her eyes to him and smiling in a way that almost seemed sheepish, but not quite.

"No you don't." He replied with a chuckle, pushing a bit of hair that'd fallen from her ponytail up under the helmet and behind her ear "You look as beautiful as ever." Laughing gently, she ducked her head again, presumably to hide a blush. "C'mon."

It took a minute, one full of awkward shifting and Steve trying very hard to ignore the way Skye wrapped her arms around his waist, until they were on their way. It wasn't a long ride, only about ten minutes, but when he pulled the bike into the parking lot of the modest looking restaurant and got off, he immediately felt a chill where the warmth of her body vanished.

"The Wayside?" Skye wondered aloud, tilting her head a bit. "I've never heard of this place."

"Neither had I. It was recommended by a friend." He explained as he held the door for her.

The restaurant was small and mostly empty, a bit of chatter from the few customers and staff alike keeping it from being too quiet. Decorated in umber tones and soft lighting, it had an air of warmth to it that was undeniable.

They were greeted by a hostess who smiled and led them to a small table in the corner. Skye seemed surprised when he pulled out her chair for her, and he found himself wondering, not for the first time, exactly when being respectful to a date became something odd or unexpected.

They ordered drinks, and as the waitress left, Steve finally asked the question that he'd been hesitant to ask, seeing how Skye seemed keen on avoiding the topic. He hadn't really meant to, he didn't want to push for information she wasn't willing to give, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"What do you do for work?" He knew she had to work. One didn't just stumble upon computers and the other tech he'd seen in his brief glance into the van, and perhaps he was being naive, but Skye didn't seem the type to steal. He expected the pause to be heavy and awkward, but it wasn't. She just cocked her head at him for a second and shrugged.

"I do a lot of what you do," She said simply, before seeming to reconsider. "Except without, y'know, the whole kicking ass and saving the world from aliens thing." She paused for a moment as the waitress returned with their drinks and took their orders, smiling and thanking the woman kindly, before continuing. "I work in intelligence. And that is _all_ I can tell you."

It was a foregone conclusion that there was more to it than that, it always was when a person worked in the business of secrets, as he and Skye both seemed to, but he understood orders of confidentiality. So he nodded and took a sip of coffee instead of asking the twenty other questions that immediately sprang to his mind. He wondered if this was how she'd felt meeting him, knowing without certainty that he knew things the public didn't and yet not asking.

"Did you hear about that explosion yesterday?" He finally asked, trying to change the subject. He realized the slight implication that could be read behind the question when Skye arched her eyebrow. "I didn't mean it like _that,"_ he rushed to recover. "I just meant that the news said it happened just after I left. I wasn't asking in regards to work, just as a concerned…"He hesitated. Boyfriend wasn't right, but he wasn't just her friend either. Ending that sentence with 'soulmate' sounded too much like something out of a cheesy romantic comedy for his liking. Skye came to his rescue though with her reply.

"Yeah, I was actually not too far when it happened." She told him, smiling a bit. "And then that superhero guy showed up. That was pretty awesome." It was clear to Steve that she was choosing her words somewhat carefully, even if the enthusiasm for the 'Hooded Hero' was clearly genuine.

They both leaned back to make room on the table as their food arrived and the plates were set on the tables. They settled into a comfortable silence as they ate, that was, until Skye stole a sausage from his plate with her fork with a wicked grin. He took a strip of bacon in retaliation. She took a piece of toast. He snatched one of her French toast sticks. By the time they were finished, Skye was giggling like a kid, he couldn't quite wipe the ridiculous grin off his face, and he was pretty sure they were fairly close to being asked to leave the restaurant.

"So," she started, sobering some, "How's your playdate with Iron Man going?"

He just shook his head in response. He'd told her that he was working something with Stark temporarily, and that he actually lived in DC at their first meeting, but that was it. He did have his own orders for disclosure, after all.

"It's going about as well as collaboration with Tony Stark can go."

"That hurts Cap." A voice behind him said. Steve's stomach dropped. Oh no. He didn't even have to turn around. Sure enough, none other than Tony Stark was pulling a chair up to their table and grinning like the cat that caught the canary. "And here I thought we were over all that. You know, through finding the true meaning of friendship and teamwork and all that."

"What are you doing here Stark?" He asked, finally finding his voice, looking over to Skye and very nearly cracking a smile at her wide-eyed look.

"You insult me." Tony replied, looking almost insulted. "You ask _my_ computer system about places to take a date and think I won't find out?" he asked, and Steve felt his ears warm and knew they were probably turning pink as Skye giggled a bit at that. He should've known consulting with JARVIS was probably a bad idea. Her laughter apparently took Stark's attention off of him though, as he turned to her and smirked.

"So _you're_ the jailbait that's caught Capcicle's eye?" He asked her, looking between the two of them in a succession so rapid it almost looked comical.

"I'm 24!" Skye objected, having recovered enough to force a bit of indignation into her voice.

"Well that's good." Tony replied without missing a beat, "Something tells me that Golden Boy here getting arrested for statutory would _not_ be good press for the Avengers." He cocked his head a bit. "I'm sorry; I don't think I caught your name, not-jailbait."

"I'm Skye." She finally answered, seeming a bit dazed. Steve had to admit, Tony took a _lot_ of getting used to. He couldn't blame her for being a little shaken up by his whirlwind appearance.

The rest of their time in the restaurant, to Steve, seemed disjointed – with Tony talking to both of them and asking questions in rapid succession and giving neither of them time to reply before completely moving on. It led him to believe that Stark was the human embodiment of snark. It hadn't been until he'd point blank told Tony that Skye was his soulmate that the billionaire would let up even the slightest bit. And he hadn't actually left them until Pepper had called by some miracle, demanding to know where they hell Tony was and why he wasn't at Stark Industries yet.

By the time he and Skye arrived back in her van's alley, he was already almost to his quota for Stark tolerance.

"So about Tony..." He started his apology, as Skye removed her helmet and pushed the hair that'd fallen loose behind her ear. She just chuckled and cut him off, poking him in the middle of the chest.

"You're _definitely_ still my favorite Avenger." She told him with a laugh.

"Good." He replied, chuckling a bit. It was as they fell into silence that he realized how close they were standing. What came next was as easy to him as breathing, something he hadn't expected.

He kissed her. Chaste, but lingering just a bit longer than was probably appropriate. He pulled back after a second and found that at some point his hands had come to rest at her waist and her arms had come to wrap around his neck.

She kissed him. Still innocently, but just a bit longer.

Needless to say, it was very difficult for him to leave and go to work after that.

* * *

It was late when he returned to the alley.

Tony had told Pepper, of course, that Steve had found one of his soulmates, not that either of them knew he had a second. She'd hugged him when she'd seen him and told him how happy she was that he'd found someone, which had been strange but nice all the same. She'd positively _scowled_ at Tony when he told her about their surprise guest on their date, and Steve couldn't find it in him to feel bad for ratting Stark out, no matter how much he got glared at.

Stopping at Skye's van before going back to his own hotel room hadn't exactly been planned, but if anything, he wanted to say goodnight. He supposed he could've called, but to do so would feel, at least to him, almost impersonal.

The alley was empty. The van was gone.

Skye was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm really sorry for the horrifically delayed chapter. :/ Some things happened that left me with little will to do anything, let alone write. But I'm back now, even though I can't quite guarantee regular chapters. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Looking For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's been awhile. 
> 
> Finally an update for this story. I'm really sorry it's taken me as long as it has. It's not the best, but it's something. I've been dealing with some stuff, but I'm finally getting my head into a healthier place. I want to thank all of you for the kind comments, they're really what gave me inspiration to work to continue this story. You guys are incredibly. 
> 
> This chapter is as of yet unbeta-ed, I was really antsy to get this chapter up, so all mistakes are mine, but shout out anyway to ozhawk for being the inspiration of this fic and for just being pretty fricken rad in general.

_"I think of you much more than I should. More than I should. And I'm falling down like it's holy ground. I'm looking for you."_

_Matthew Perryman Jones, "Looking For You"_

* * *

The fact that Skye's van isn't in its usual spot isn't too concerning to Steve on its own, it _is_ a vehicle after all. What puts him on edge is the hour, and the fact that she hadn't mentioned going anywhere.

He checks his phone quickly to see if he's missed a call or text, but there's nothing.

It's that revelation that sends his brain in about ten directions at once. She'd said she worked in intelligence, it's possible she got called into duty. That sends a bit more anxiety through him, simply because he knows that even if you aren't, as Skye put it, "kicking ass and saving the world from aliens," it can be dangerous.

The next conclusion his mind leaps to is that she was taken. With the right job title and enough experience, it's easy to make enemies, especially if your job is keeping secrets - government or otherwise. When he looks around though, he can't find much to argue either side of that possibility. Nothing seems out of place, but it's also an alleyway, there's not much to be moved around if a struggle were to break out.

For just a second, his mind leaves the 'danger' thought alone, and wonders if she left because of _him._ If something he did or said didn't make her leave. He's heard about it before, half (or, he supposes, a third in this case) of a soulmate pair rejecting the other. It's rare, but it happens. He immediately goes through each of their interactions in his head, lingering at the memory of their first kiss. No, he's relatively certain he didn't do anything wrong, at least not enough to make her want to get away from him.

His phone still in his hand, he pulls up her contact. She'd put it it in that morning when she'd jokingly stolen his phone to demonstrate her pickpocketing abilities. (He does _not_ want to know where she'd learned, the thought that maybe she'd once _needed_ to know how to pick pockets to survive isn't one that bodes well with him) She'd taken a picture to go along with the contact, he's pretty sure they call them 'selfies,' and it brings a small smile to his lips.

He sends a text message:

**I stopped by to say goodnight. I hope everything's okay. -Steve**

He's still worried, there's still two dozen bad things that could've happened, and those are the ones he can think of, but there's not too much he can realistically do, especially seeing how he doesn't have any proof that _anything_ has happened other than the vehicle moving.

There's also plenty of reasons that aren't bad ones that could be why she not here. The thought is about as reassured as he can manage.

Even telling himself that, he doesn't get much sleep.

In the end, he only manages about two hours of uneasy sleep, and those he has to fight for in the first place. It catches him off guard, how worried he is, how concerned he is over a girl he's known for such a short amount of time. He supposes it's a sort-of confirmation of all the stories he's heard his entire life about soulmates being instantly drawn together.

He's a little surprised his phone managed to charge, seeing how he'd checked it every fifteen seconds during those hours when he couldn't keep his eyes closed for more than a few minutes at a time.

The sun's just starting to rise, about an hour before he'd usually head in to Stark Industries, when he finally gives up on trying to rest.

His stomach is twisting with discomfort when he pulls up to the alleyway again. He knows it'll be empty before he even rounds the corner, a gut feeling tells him so, and he's not surprised to find that the instinct was right. It does nothing to settle his nerves.

He gets to Stark Industries long before Tony does, which isn't anything new, but the fact that Tony's on time certainly is.

It's painfully obvious that Tony knows something's up, even if he doesn't know exactly what, and he's honestly shocked when there's no ribbing or coaxing to get him to spill what has him on edge. He thinks it must have something to do with Stark's own soulmate. Pepper's the only one he's ever seen get Tony to act like an actual human being.

It's almost noon before anything happens to take his mind off his worry.

Tony finally manages to get into SHIELD's systems, and really, Steve probably shouldn't be _encouraging_ him to do so, but he's not sure secrecy is worth the potential danger Extremis poses. While he sees it as a step forward, Tony's not at all impressed with the progress.

"Whatever the hell is going on, SHIELD's guarding it with all it's got." He complains, shaking his head in frustration. "The only thing I'm finding in the state is the apprehension of some Rising Tide hacker."

If nothing else, that clues Steve in to just how seriously Stark's taking the hunt for Extremis. In the past, he'd been hugely entertained with the Rising Tide, if only for the reason that they seemed to know exactly how to make Fury tic. Now, he says their title with a mix of annoyance that _they_ were the only thing he could find out about when he wanted so much more, and aggravation at the situation.

"You're gonna want to see this." Pepper speaks from the doorway, almost making Steve jump, he'd been so focused on the screens over Tony's shoulders, trying to keep up with what was happening. When she doesn't get an answer, she sets the tablet she's holding down in front of him. "LAPD has called in a bomb threat at Union Station."

 _That_ sufficiently earns both of their attentions. Pulling the news feeds onto larger screens, it's difficult to really understand what's happening, because it's 100% chaos. People gather around police lines that are already being set up, most looking confused and all completely ignoring the officers who try in vain to usher them away.

It's Tony who notices the SUVs emblazoned with a very familiar emblem lined up behind the police cruisers behind a reporter whose words they're only scarcely listening to. He has Jarvis halt the image, and turns to look to Steve.

"SHIELD doesn't just show up for any old bomb threat."

Steve's already turning to Pepper to ask for a comm, so he can get down there and see what's happening, when he hears Stark's voice again. He sounds almost... stricken?

"Uh.. Cap?"

When he turns to the TV, the footage playing live again, his stomach drops lower than the floor.

 _"...according to our inside sources... a lone assailant with a hostage..."_ a woman is saying, her voice only faintly carrying over the video that's being played.

The view is limited, whoever's holding the news camera seems to be hiding beneath a desk or table, but what he can see is unmistakable.

A dark skinned man stands, looking over a railing, a orange-ish red light glowing occasionally just beneath the skin, his hand wrapped tightly around his hostage's arm. A hostage who is unmistakably Skye.

He feels as though every hint of oxygen has been pulled from his body and sucked from the room, because suddenly he can't breathe. His heart hammers in his chest, harder than he thinks it's ever done as he tries to make his unexpectedly paralyzed body move.

A shot goes off somewhere off screen, shattering the sudden silence of the room, and the man throws Skye to the ground, and wherever she lands or whatever state she lands in, they can't see. It's out of the camera's view. A second shot fires, sending the 'bomber' over the railing, before there's an eerie silence.

Without warning, a hand reaches under the desk, it's owner not visible, grabbing the camera out of it's owners possession, before flinging it out what Steve's pretty sure is a window. The screen goes black as it hits the ground.

Steve's out the door before he can even hear one of the reporters continue on about the evacuation efforts and whether the bomber survived the fall.

He calls Skye on the way out the door, and just about flings his phone to the pavement when it goes straight to voicemail.

If it weren't for his heightened reflexes, he'd probably be dead six or seven times over on his way to Union Station.

When he gets there, it's somehow even more chaotic than it'd been just minutes before on the feeds. People flood out of the station in a crazed torrent, eyes wide and plainly scared of whatever they'd seen within. Children cling to the hands of their parents, and the ones that've been separated from their families wail their fear and despair. A man sits on the back of an ambulance, a bruise blossoming over his face and a few teeth obviously missing.

Through the haze of his own concern, he notices that the SUVs are gone, and people are moving both in _and_ out of the building. It's all over, and he has no idea what happened.

He sees the people who'd been inside being shuffled to a different area cordoned off by police tape, probably to be interviewed about what they'd seen. He starts toward them.

"S-sir! You can't be over there!" A voice calls from somewhere off to his side. He turns to see an officer, about half his size and clearly fresh out of the Academy. He's just a kid, and by the look on his face, he's recognized Steve. It doesn't seem to deter him one bit.

"Look kid, I'm just trying to find somebody." He explains, not even slowing his pace. The young officer jogs to keep up.

"So are a lot of of other people. We're not doing interviews now, just getting a list of names and numbers. You won't have to wait long just-" But Steve's not listening. He's sure he's seen her in the herd of people, and moves toward her at a speed the kid doesn't even try to match.

As he nears, he realizes not only that it's _not_ her, but that she's not within the mass of people, who are being thinned out into a line. Several glances up and down the line, and he still can't spot his soulmate among them.

"Sir, I said-" the young man who'd first tried to stop him starts again, having finally caught up again.

"Where's the girl?"

"S-sir?"

"The hostage. The one the bomber had. Where is she?" He clarifies, trying to keep his voice calm and only succeeding to some extent. "Please. I need to know. She's my soulmate." He explains, hoping that'll prompt the kid to be honest with him.

"I.. I don't know." Apparently, he catches the look that has to have crossed over Steve's face. "I really don't! She left with the agents who took the psycho!"

SHIELD has Skye.. well that both comforts him to some extent, and at the same time gives him a whole new set of potential fears. She'd said she worked in intelligence, but he has a feeling she'd have said if she worked for the same people he did. Who knows what SHIELD would do to get information she had? He's heard enough rumors in the past to decide immediately that that isn't an option.

He'll go to Nick Fury himself if he has to.

His phone goes off in his pocket, and he's not surprised to see Pepper's caller ID.

"Yeah?" He answers unceremoniously, dragging a hand through his hair.

 _"Did you find her?"_ The question is innocent enough, but he gets the distinct feeling that she already knows, regardless of his answer.

"No. SHIELD has her, as far as I can tell." Managing to get away from the crowd and back to his bike is somehow harder than getting close to the building that'd almost been blown up. He figures it has something to do with the lack of adrenaline.

"That's what I'm calling about." Pepper replies, confirming his suspicions that she knows something he doesn't. "Tony did some more digging on what he could find in SHIELD activity."

"And?"

"The Rising Tide hacker that was apprehended." She says carefully, like she's not sure how he'll react. "That was Skye."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope you enjoyed it! I'll see you next chapter!


	6. One Little Slip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys... so I fucked up. I posted this chapter on FFN and somehow completely forgot to post it here. I don't have any explanation other than stress about school. But anyway, I'm SO sorry.

 

_"It seemed that happily ever after was happy everyone was after me. It was a cup of good intentions, a tablespoon of one big mess, a dash of overreaction, I assume you know the rest." - One Little Slip, Barenaked Ladies_

* * *

When Skye opens the door of her van only to have a bag thrown over her head, she's terrified, absolutely certain that it's Centipede, that maybe she finally got too close and it's going to cost her. Her mind goes to Steve as they throw her in what she assumes is an SUV. He doesn't know, and if they decide to kill her, he never will. The thought makes a painful knot form in her chest.

A large hand remains on her neck the entire car ride, which isn't too long, a silent threat, should she make some attempt at escape. It does its job, not that she'd try to jump out of a moving car without being able to see anyway.

Finally, the car comes to a stop, and she's tugged unceremoniously back to her feet. She staggers some, and the hand from her neck drops, only to lock around her arm in a secure grasp. She hears the roar of engines far too large to belong to any sort of car, and wonders where she is.

Airport, she decides, as she's led up a ramp. They must be taking her onto a plane. Why a plane? Before she can contemplate it too much more, someone pulls the bag off her head and pushes her none too gently into a chair.

The guy who took the bag looks the very definition of her idea of dark men in suits, all cold eyes and stiff shoulders as he glares at her like she's a bug he can't wait to crush.

The other looks.. not nearly as intimidating. He looks more like a suburban dad with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids than a secret agent or whatever he's supposed to be. At worst he looks like a vaguely intimidating businessman, but she notices his eyes are kind.

She still doesn't know who they are, and her bet's still on Centipede, but she refuses to let them see her fear, so she looks Mr. 007 straight on when he tells her there's two ways to do this.

"Is one of them the easy way?" She sasses.

She wishes she could come right out of her chair at this "Agent Ward" when the ass demands her  _real_ name when she give in to their first question, but Mr. Businessman intervenes. Not that her swinging a punch wouldn't probably hurt her more than him anyway.

"That can wait." He insists, sitting across the table from her. "It's another name we need. A certain hero." For a split second, she wonders who they mean; Steve or Mike? But it only takes a second to remember that  _everybody_ knows who Captain America is. They must mean Mike. Good, innocent Mike, who doesn't deserve whatever these people undoubtedly have planned for him. She knows they aren't Centipede now, because they don't know the name. SHIELD then.

She won't give them Mike. So, she meets their gazes evenly and throws as much sarcasm as she can physically manage at them. She smirks and points out that she knows they're on a plane, and tries her damnedest to not let them see through her.

"I was just kidnapped by your  _style!"_ she snaps in disbelief when Mr. Businessman says that blowing up the building to lure Mike out isn't what they do. "SHIELD covered up New Mexico, Project Pegasus, of  _course_ you'd be covering up Centipede."

It's when she catches Ward mouthing "Centipede?" confusedly at his partner that she realizes that they have no idea what they're involved in.

When they come back later with a gun that holds what Businessman says is a truth serum, she  _almost_ cracks. Almost tells them about Steve, not that they'd actually believe her of course, Ward's already accused her of being a hero groupie. But then the agent who  _isn't_ a robot jabs the needle instead into Ward, and  _what?_

She waits with Businessman after Ward loses consciousness following an  _extremely_ entertaining interview, and when he introduces himself as Phil Coulson.. Well, she feels her heart stutter for just a second. Just that morning Steve had told her about Phil Coulson, who had given his life in the fight against Loki, the truest unsung hero of the Battle of New York, without whom the Avengers probably wouldn't even exist. She hesitates, and hedges.

"SHIELD records say you're dead." She tells him, and he smiles at her.

"I did, for a few seconds." He gives her a look. "The fact that I'm not is a confidential matter." He says it like that's supposed to mean something to her, and she has to swallow once. She'd seen the touch of pain in Steve's eyes when he'd mentioned this man, a quiet kind of reverence in his voice. Even Tony had raised his coffee mug in a halfhearted toast, momentarily sobered, and claimed Phil a good man. How could he not tell them? They'd grieved for him.

She's angry for a second, before she looks to him. He's studying her, and when she meets his gaze, he can see a pain other than grief in his eyes. He doesn't like the fact that it's need to know any more than she does, she can just tell.

She decides right then and there that Phil Coulson might just be the bane of her existence. He doesn't match the villain she's painted SHIELD agents to be in her head since finding that redacted file. She's not sure she can hate him like she wants to. So she lets the subject drop and instead tells him what all Ward had spilled when drugged.

"He doesn't like your style." She tells him, "I think I do."

He shows her what Mike's done, how he's spiraling, and it makes her sick to her stomach. "He just needs a break." She tries to explain, and when she looks at him from the screens, she can tell he believes her, and that he truly doesn't want to hurt Mike. She swallows, fishing in her pocket for the ID, hand holds it out to him.

"His name's Mike Peterson."

* * *

Never in her life did she think she'd go anywhere with SHIELD willingly, but she finds herself with Agent May, a severe looking woman, back in her alley to get the files their scientists need.

Of course that doesn't last long, because Mike and his son barrel their way into her van, throwing the agent out like she's a ragdoll. The little boy called Ace looks terrified, despite his father's urges to not cry because they're a team. He tells her to drive and she does, no real destination in mind.

They drive most of the night, until the tank is nearly empty and she convinces him that it's safe to park for just a little bit. It'll help Ace sleep, she insists, and she can get to work on erasing their identities. At least that's what she's telling him.

She feels the vibration of her phone in her pocket, and when Mike's occupied with his son, she manages a quick peek at it, just enough to see it's from Steve. She knows she can't answer it now, can't send an SOS message, not with Mike's eyes on her back and how paranoid he suddenly (and rightfully) is. He won't trust her if he thinks she's lying to him, and if she's going to contact Coulson's team, she needs his trust. Guiltily, she shoves the phone back into her pocket.

It's morning before she can get Mike to look away from her enough for her to get her message to FitzSimmons (she's not really sure which one's which), and all she can do is pray that it works. She feels so guilty as he makes his reassurances to Ace, but she knows that he needs SHIELD, if the red veining she keeps seeing just under his skin is anything to go by.

The sound of Coulson's voice outside her van makes her jump, and when Mike starts yelling, angrily asking her what she's done, for the first time she's scared he might hurt her. It's clear he's at least a little unbalanced.

And then he sends the door of her van flying and he had Ace's in one of his and he's yanking her arm with the other, tugging them both into the station with him.

The only thing she can think to do is to pick a fight, and in the chaos that ensues after it, she runs into the crowd, trying to get as far away as fast as is possible. She looks back only once, just long enough to see Coulson ushering Ace to agents who take him out of the building and Mike throwing Ward to the ground. Never in a million years did she ever think she'd be so relieved to see anyone from SHIELD.

She's trying to get through a door that's locked when Mike finds her, tugging her with him and breaking down the door when the shots start. He yanks her up the stairs with him to look over the balcony, only to shove her out of harms way when the bullets start flying again. Her breath catches when he gets hit in the arm and goes over the edge, the knowledge of his abilities suddenly leaving her.

The cop with the gun suddenly raises it again, this time aiming toward her. She barely has time to realize that he's clearly not a real cop, when Melinda May is suddenly there, and her would be shooter is promptly unconscious. She continues to stare as her savior rips the camera away from a man hiding under a desk and flings it out the window.

The two women start down the stairs in an instant, and while otherwise, Skye'd have no chance keeping up with the agent, her head start lets her get there first, coming to a stop just behind Coulson. Never in a million years did she think she'd ever stand on the side of SHIELD. Forcefully, she reminds herself of the redacted file. They're the enemy.

Her heart nearly stops in her chest when Mike drops suddenly, but then one of Coulson's scientists (She  _thinks_ the woman is Simmons) is rushing up to him, checking for a pulse, and she sees that he wasn't hit with a bullet.

She realizes that she could leave, right now. Her van's out front with enough gas to get away. She could do it. Everybody's so preoccupied with Mike, no one would notice. Coulson gives her a look though, and nods once toward the SUV, and she obeys. She tells herself that it's just because she wants a way in to find out about her parents, but it's not entirely true.

On the ride back to the plane, this time noticeably not blindfolded, she comforts Ace the best she knows how to. They boy's terrified and wants his father, but she calms him some, and he dozes off. He wakes just long enough when they get there to stumble onto the plane and to the couch Coulson offers him. She watches him curl up, exhausted, and sighs.

"We'll take him to his Aunt in the morning." The agent informs her, and she looks at the clock for the first time, before marvelling at the fact that it's already almost six. How in the name of anything had that happened?

She checks her phone, wanting to finally text Steve back, but it's dead, and she sighs once.

"Got a place I can charge this?" She asks. He nods and holds out a hand, and she gives it to him, glad she's encrypted it just as well as she has her computer. They won't be able to get anything from it.

It takes awhile, but eventually she settles to the point that she thinks she can rest, and takes another couch that's open. She can't help but wonder how many couches this agency plane has. It's not a particularly restful sleep, but it's something.

Morning finds her waking groggily and her neck aching from the awkward angle her head's been at all night long. She's drowsy, but she can hear a lot of movement from other parts of the plane, so she assumes it's safe to say that the agents are already awake and ready for the day. She yawns and stretches, a few joints popping as she does so and starts toward the noise. She needs her phone back from Coulson.

She barely gets out of the room before Agent May calls her attention.

"Skye? Can I have a word? In private?" Never before have those words been quite that intimidating. Mutely, she nods and follows through a door andinto the room they'd briefed in earlier. She closes the door behind her, and turns to see Melinda May standing before her, arms crossed and a disapproving look etched upon her face.

"So exactly when were you going to tell any of us that Steve Rogers is your soulmate?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Steve made himself some phone calls. We'll see how that works out in the next few chapters. I hope you enjoyed, I'm so sorry for the long wait, and I'll see you next chapter! This may end up being the last chapter for awhile as I get back into the swing of school and learn to manage all my homework (for some demented reason I decided all AP classes was the way to go) but I will NOT abandon this story.


	7. Glowing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So here's the first update since the start of the school year. Sorry it's been so long. I'm kind of struggling with life in general. So I'm basically a huge dumbass and just realized that I started off in past tense and somehow switched to present tense a few chapters in. I honestly have no explanation as to why that happened but yeah. Sorry. I went back and fixed it.

" _You knocked me sideways when you said that you were leaving. You knocked me over when you cried and told the truth. And it left me speechless the secrets you've been keeping. You're running now 'cause someone's chasing you. And you bought a ticket but you don't know where you're going. And you won't tell me, for fear I follow suit." – The Script, "Glowing"_

* * *

 

It seemed that being an Avenger was entirely insignificant as far as SHIELD went, because he'd been trying for what seemed like hours now to get  _someone_ on the phone who could actually be of use. So far, it seemed like he'd been transferred to everyone who  _couldn't_ help him.

He was pacing up and down a hallway in Stark Industries, on hold yet again when Tony finally lost his own patience. He blocked Steve's path stubbornly and snatched his phone out of his hands. When the supersoldier protested and tried to get it back, Stark ignored him, typing in a number and pressing 'talk' before shoving it back to him.

"What's this?" He asked, putting the phone to his ear as he did so.

"Fury's direct number." Tony replied with a smug grin. Steve opened his mouth to ask where he'd gotten it, he himself was a level 8 agent, and the closest he could get to Fury's personal number was the receptionist (who had told him twice that the Director was out and she'd give him the message that Steve needed to speak to him urgently once he returned), but when he heard the gruff greeting from the other end of the line, he stopped caring.

It took a scant few minutes to fill Fury, who let loose a few colorful curses that were likely to make a sailor blush, in on the situation. Part of him wondered why exactly Nick was  _so_ incensed, but then he thought about how many times he'd been transferred, supposedly because of clearance issues. Obviously there was more at play than a simple arrest, but then again, he'd known that. Why else wouldn't he have been informed of the operation at the station? Finally, after a long line of particularly interesting swearing, Fury sighed.

"I'll contact Agent Melinda May, an agent on the team that made the arrest and have her get in touch with you."

It was almost an hour later before Steve got a text, although it wasn't from the Agent May that Fury had mentioned, but instead from Skye herself.

**I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. Can we meet? –S**

He thought that if Tony were in the room, he'd probably be impressed with the he replied with, his fingers flying across the screen faster than they ever had before.

**Of course. When and where? –Steve**

He didn't correct her, didn't try to pretend he wasn't worried, because he certainly was. It was actually difficult for him to recall a time when he was more worried for anyone's wellbeing as much as he had when he'd seen Skye on the news. The only thing that quite compared was when he found out that the 107th had been captured by Hydra. Thankfully, the vibration of his phone distracted him before his mind could go down that particularly dark alleyway.

**The park? 20 minutes? –S**

**See you there. –Steve**

Practically bolting for the parking lot, he hesitated just long enough to throw a "Thank you" to Tony over his shoulder. Despite the agreement for twenty minutes, he was there in less than ten. After what had to have been an eternity, he finally spotted her, moving toward him, an Asian woman, Agent May, he presumed, trailed just behind her.

He couldn't get a word out before she threw her arms around him, letting loose a shuddering sigh against his chest. Without even thinking, he enveloped her in a warm embrace, before pulling back after a moment. Both her palms pressed against his, he looked her up and down, eyes narrowing on a purple bruise he saw peeking out at the edge of her sleeve.

"Hey," she chided lightly, drawing his attention to her face. "I'm fine Steve. I promise."

"Why should I believe that?" The words were out without his permission, but he didn't take them back. She'd lied to him about working in intelligence, and he wanted to know why. They were soulmates, but even so, no relationship could work if it was founded on lies. He'd heard that sometimes 'mates wouldn't click until they'd found their third to balance them out, but he wanted it to work with her, he  _liked_ her, who knew when they could find their third?

She dropped her hands from his and looked to the agent over her shoulder.

"Can we have a minute?" She asked, and the older woman looked down at her watch.

"You have five." She said simply as she turned on her heel and walked away, stopping at a bench, where she could still keep an eye on things.

Skye started walking along the sidewalk, and he caught on and walked beside her after a second. His hand itched to reach out and take hers, but he restrained himself. He wanted answers first.

"So, the Rising Tide." He prompted.

"I can explain." She rushed, and he kept quiet, cuing her to continue. "I ran from my last foster home when I was sixteen and never went back. I lived on my own for a while, and then I met this guy, Myles, an absolute genius with computers." She rubbed at the back of her neck, taking a steadying breath. "He taught me how to hack. He helped me find anything I could about my parents. The only thing we could ever find was a file that'd been redacted by SHIELD."

Well, that explained a lot, he couldn't help but think as she continued.

"He promised the Rising Tide could help me find out more, and that we could expose other secrets big organizations were keeping under wraps that the public had a right to know about." She paused, crossing her arms and turning to face him. "You of all people should understand. I saw the records. After the Battle of New York, you filed several complaints within SHIELD speaking out against the secrecy of Project Pegasus."

It took him aback some, but it wasn't much like he could actually argue with her, it was true, he'd protested as much as he was able to Project Pegasus without going public with it.

"Point taken." He finally replied.

"Still. I should've told you, and I'm really sorry."

For a second, he didn't say anything, and when he returned her gaze, he read the anxiety across her features that she was clearly trying to hide. He could barely stand it. Rationally, part of him still wanted to be angry, but he couldn't quite make it stick.

"Hey, look at me." He urged, reaching for her hand and resting the other against her cheek. "Just tell me something, and be honest." When she nodded slightly, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm okay. M- The guy, he didn't want to hurt me. He was just… he needed a break."

"What happened to him?"

"I'm not… It's classified." He could tell she hated to say the words, but he was confused as to why he was saying them at all, especially considering she had just explained to him that she'd joined the Rising Tide to expose classified secrets. At least, he was until she spoke again. "Which, leads me to something else."

"What?" He asked as she lowered her head some.

"The team that arrested me is this super classified mobile command team and, according to Agent May, the team leader wants to recruit me." Blinking in shock a few times, he opened his mouth to say something, only to get cut off. "Only as a tech consult, but with the option of training to be an agent."

"Have you given them an answer yet?" Almost unconsciously, his hand, still around hers, tightened some. He didn't know what he'd planned for when it was time for him to return to DC, though he'd toyed with the idea of asking her to come with him, but if she was on a mobile command unit…

"Not yet. I wanted to talk to you about it first." She paused for a second before adding, "Not that I'm asking permission or anything. You might be from the 40s, but you're  _not_ telling me what I can and can't do."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He replied honestly. He knew that many men from his time, marked or otherwise, were often domineering and authoritative toward their spouses and soulmates, something he'd never really understood. Wasn't the whole point of it to be a team, a family? "What do  _you_ want to do?"

"I think I want to go with them." She admitted, looking sheepishly away from him. "They seem like good people and… well it might give me the chance to find out more about my parents. Plus…" She looked back up at him with a small smile, "It might be easier if you and I on the same team."

"It sounds like you've already made up your mind." He pointed out, the slightest of smiles pulling at his mouth without his permission. She recognized that SHIELD had serious faults, especially considering what it kept secret, but was willing to accept it as a well-meaning lesser of many evils. If he'd ever doubted she was meant to be his soulmate, it vanished then.

"We can call and text." She suggested, relief sagging at her small frame. Had she thought he'd try to stop her? He wasn't too fond of the thought. "And I know you're not too good with tech yet…" she paused to give him a small, playful smirk, "But email's good too."

He didn't get a chance to reply, before a voice interjected into whatever he was going to say.

"Skye, we have to go." It was Agent May, phone still pressed to her ear and voice giving no room for argument. It was an order, not a request. Skye looked unsure for a second, eyes flicking between him and May, before she stepped forward and kissed him.

It was different from their other one, a little more frantic, a little less innocent. Almost guiltily, Steve felt the difference between it and any kiss he'd shared with Peggy. That wasn't to say he hadn't loved Peggy, or even that he loved Skye, at least not yet, but that was what made it different. The kiss was a promise, with the slightest touch of regret beneath it, but at the same time not quite a goodbye. A coiling feeling of unease slipped into his stomach as she pulled away at Agent May's insistence.

His hand felt strangely empty as she slid hers out of it, turning and all but sprinting after the older woman back toward an SUV that was parked in the lot of some coffee shop at the corner.

As he watched the SUV drive out of his line of sight, he wrestled down the emotions that warred for attention in his mind, forcing them down into the neat little box that Skye had managed to unlock in a scant few days. She had a job to do now, and so did he. It was best he focus on it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. Compartmentalizing!Steve sounds like a fun guy, right?
> 
> Alright guys. I'm sorry its a bit shorter than previous chapters, I know it does nothing to make up for the obscene amount of time it's been since I've updated. I do have a question for you all though. From now until around "Repairs" (1x09) the only contact between Steve and Skye will be through texts and emails and such. I can make one really long chapter will all their correspondence and then have the next chapter be the next time they see each other in person, or I can break it up and have a few chapters of just email & texting. It up to you guys.


	8. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry again that it's been so long. Again. I suck. But I have four AP exams next week, and of course, instead of studying, my brain has become a slave to my muse. Fuck. But I guess it's great for you guys, because you get a new chapter after an eternity.

 

Once the plane was in the air and her meager belongings somewhat organized in the bunk Fitz and Simmons had directed her to, Skye's first stop was the lab. She needed to have a physical workup and be put in the system, a fact that made her skin crawl. She'd wiped herself off every database when she was 17, had destroyed any physical copies that denoted her existence, and had kept herself invisible for years, and now she was willingly undoing it. Erasing herself again, if she ever needed to, would be close to impossible.

She ran her thumb over the phone in her pocket and thought of Steve. She didn't need to be erased anymore, she reminded herself. She told herself she was more convinced than she really was.

It took her only a few minutes to decided that she liked the scientists. Simmons was sweet, even if a little excitable, and seemed to be genuinely excited that Skye would be joining them. Fitz was much the same, though he seemed more flustered by her.

She caught herself smiling a bit too much when Simmons stated that she was sure they'd be great friends, and forcibly reminded herself not to get attached.

May appeared in the doorway nearly soundlessly around the time Simmons was drawing blood from Skye to test her type (she'd never bothered to find out). As bickering erupted over where the typing cards were, the senior agent came to stand beside her.

"When she asks about your soulmarks, you're not to say that you've found one." She instructed in a tone firm enough that Skye wasn't even going to try to argue. "Understood?"

"Yeah," she replied with a small nod, arms crossing over her chest, though she wondered if she shouldn't have answered 'Yes ma'am' with the arched eyebrow she got. She'd have to work on that - she'd never been much for authority or titles. Before she could correct herself though, May was gone again, just as silently as she'd come. It was more than a little unnerving, to be honest.

A few moments later, Simmons had finished the typing - she turned out to be O positive.

"Alright then, do you have a soulmark?" She asked with a smile, fingers hovering over a tablet, prepared to fill in the response.

"Uh, yeah. Two."

"A platonic and romantic?" She asked knowingly, already typing.

"No, actually. Two romantic." Simmons' fingers froze, and Skye was pretty sure she saw Fitz wilt a little bit.

"Oh really? How fascinating!" She exclaimed with a grin, "I've never actually met anyone with two romantic soulmarks before. I've heard about it of course, and studies show that it _is_ becoming more and more commonplace but still!"

The best Skye could manage was a thin lipped smile. When she was in the orphanage, the fact that she had two romantic marks had been a source of disdain among the nuns. They hadn't frowned at her as firmly as they did a boy who had three, but they'd made it quite clear that they disagreed with the notion. A romantic and platonic were perfectly acceptable, but two romantic?

"Sorry, I didn't mean..." Simmons quickly apologized, ears turning pink, "I get away from myself."

"No, it's fine," Skye soothed, "It's just- not everyone's quite that open minded."

"Which is completely ridiculous." She added, before amending whatever she'd put on the tablet. "Can I get a picture of them?" She asked. Skye nodded, rolling up her sleeve for the one on her forearm and tugging her t-shirt's collar down to expose her collarbone for the Steve's.

"And have you met either of them?"

"No." It wasn't as though Skye was adverse to lying - hell, a big reason she'd survived on the streets for as long as she had was her ability to lie - but something about lying about _Steve_ made it taste like acid on her tongue. It was ridiculous, but there it was.

"Oh well, it'll be worth the wait when you do." She assured.

"Do you have one?" The question really came without Skye's permission, but Simmons didn't seem to mind much.

"Fitz is my platonic," she told her, affection laced in her voice. The engineer in question turned from what he was working on to beam at her, and really, she should've figured.

"You know there's a rumor that Coulson and May are platonics too?" Fitz told her, lowering his voice as if one of them would walk around the corner the moment he spoke which, considering May's stealth, was entirely possible.

And with that, they were bickering again, this time whether or not the interactions between the higher ranking agents matched typical platonic soulmate interaction. It was at that point Skye chose to make her escape, returning to her bunk as quickly as she can reasonably get there.

* * *

Skye's head was spinning.

Since agreeing to consult for SHIELD - a whopping twenty hours ago - she'd kept secrets from locals, violating everything she'd ever stood for, had been shot at, held hostage, and almost sucked out of a plane in flight.

And yet she was more optimistic than she'd been in years. They'd worked together, as a _team,_ and had stopped the bad guys. It felt good to be able to do something _not_ from the other side of the screen.

She'd even come to some strange sort of understanding over worldviews with Ward, whom May had informed her would be taking charge of her training.

Maybe changing sides wouldn't be so bad.

New-found positive outlook aside, she was dead on her feet, and by the time they'd disposed of the 0-8-4 (by flinging it into the sun, no less) she all but stumbled toward her bunk. Despite the fact she'd heard the others complaining about the small size of them, she liked it. It reminded her of her van.

She didn't even bother to change clothes, collapsing unceremoniously on the surprisingly comfortable mattress.

Just as she started to drift off, her phone vibrated against her hip. Cursing under her breath, she rolled over, onto her back, and fished the cell from her pocket. Unlocking the phone was automatic, mechanical, but it took a solid few seconds for her eyes to focus on the caller ID. It was Steve, and as tired as she was, it brought a smile to her face.

She flicked her eyes to the door, assuring herself that it was securely shut, she answered, half mumbling, half humming a greeting.

"Skye?" he asked, something akin to worry in his voice, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," she assured quickly, stifling a yawn with her wrist, "'M just tired. 'S been a long day."

"You start training?" He asked, humor replacing the concern in his tone.

"No, that's tomorrow morning." She corrected with a slight wince, dread pooling in her stomach. She had no doubt Ward would put her through the wringer. "Things just... didn't go according to plan today." The question they both knew he couldn't ask hung heavy between them, to distract from it, she asked: "How're thing going with Stark?"

"About as good as expected," He replied, and it was impossible to miss the exasperation in his voice, "But I'm heading back to D.C. at the end of the week."

"It'll be good to get back home then, huh?" She asked, ignoring the twist in her gut as she was reminded that neither of them had any idea when they'd be able to see each other again.

"Yeah," he agreed, letting a lull fall in the conversation. She was opening her mouth to say something when he continued, almost tentatively, "Maybe if your unit stops at the Triskelion, I can show you around?"

The thought alone widened her smile, though she barely managed to get out an "Of course," through the yawn that overtook her. She heard him chuckle.

"Get some rest, okay? You sound like you need it."

"Is that an _order_ Captain?" she teased, though the thought of sleep was more than a little bit tempting, and she was pretty sure she could _hear_ him rolling his eyes, though there wasn't any annoyance or irritation in his tone when he answered, just warm affection that made her chest feel funny.

"Nope. Just a suggestion from a concerned soulmate."

It was completely and utterly ridiculous the way those words made her stomach flip in a way it hadn't since her first crush.

"Alright," she conceded, "T-1000's gonna make my life miserable in the morning anyway, no reason to make it any worse than it has to be."

"T-1000?" He asked, confusion plain in his voice.

"My S.O. It's just a nickname." She explained, making a mental note to ask later about the state of his pop culture catchup list. "So I guess I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah, just, whenever you get the chance." If she'd had any whether he knew that she wasn't supposed to tell anyone about him, it vanished then. His next words, though, caught her off guard. "Stay safe, alright?"

"I'll do my best," She assured, which was as close as she was willing to go to a promise. If nothing else, today had taught her how unpredictable, potentially dangerous, and uncertain things could get in the blink of an eye. "You be careful too, then."

"Yes ma'am," he responded, and she could hear the smile in his voice, practically see it if she tried. "Good night, Skye."

"Good night, Steve."

The line disconnected, and for the first time Skye could remember, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. Again, sorry it took so long. I'll try to do better, promise.
> 
> As always, comments, kudos, etc are always greatly appreciated, and I'll see you next chapter!


End file.
